


Catharsis

by meaninglessblah



Category: Six Realms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Finger Sucking, Hair-pulling, Indifference for Personal Safety, It's not gentle, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Non-con because Klauen refuses at one point and Runde responds with violence, Overstimulation, Pain, Power Dynamics, Punching, Rough Sex, Swearing, They're both in a bad place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Following the death of their friend and mutual lover, Klauen seeks out Runde's company as a distraction. Neither of them care what happens, as long as they don't have to feel anything else for a while.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Read their adventures here: http://thesixrealms.tumblr.com/tagged/six%20realms/chrono

Runde hadn’t expected company tonight, let alone that of his commander-in-chief and Great Mage. He’d barely blinked at Klauen, standing framed by the darkness like he was made of moonlight, before the other had shoved him back through the doorway.

“We’re going to fuck,” he said bluntly, slamming the door behind him as Runde backtracked, stunned.

“What?”

“You’re going to fuck me,” he reiterated, and seized Runde’s lips in a harsh kiss littered with bites. “Tell me what you like. Now,” he snapped when Runde floundered.

“Licking.” Runde managed to form the word.

Klauen nipped at his earlobe, unrelenting as Runde gasped. “What else?”

“Fuck,” he gasped, his hands winding around Klauen’s waist. He was unsure how to approach the highlord – he was his captain, for Fathers’ sakes. “Uh, begging, shouting, um…”

His mind reeled, scrambling to pull together enough to form a sufficient picture. Klauen either took pity on him or grew impatient, sliding hands up his neck, carding through his hair. Runde shuddered.

“Hair?” Klauen demanded, and Runde blinked at him. He’d need more elaboration than that. Klauen’s eyes flashed, and his hand fisted, yanking at Runde’s hair as the other yelped. “Do you like me pulling your hair?”

“Yes!” Runde cried out, breathless as Klauen lowered lips to his exposed neck. “Gods, yes.” He managed to collect some semblance of consciousness, managing to stammer, “W-what do you want?”

“Biting,” Klauen said bluntly, and licked along his jaw line. The tremor that wracked Runde’s body was debilitating. “Nails, scars, whatever. Just make me feel it.”

Runde obeyed, hands sharpening to claws where they seized Klauen’s waist. “Where are you sensitive?” he asked, surprised at how level his voice was. He had a few spare seconds to learn a lifetime of knowledge about this man’s body, and he was going to use every one.

“Anywhere that’ll bruise,” Klauen muttered, and elaborated at Runde’s expression, “Collarbone, wrists, throat, ribs. You?”

“Hips, stomach,” he responded between kisses, his fingers tugging at Klauen’s shirt where it was cinched off by his belt. “Thighs. Anywhere down there.” He managed to pry the shirt away, and they broke apart while he wrestled it over Klauen’s shoulders. “What do you want? What are we–?”

“Do you want top or bottom?” Klauen interrupted quickly, and Runde took a split second to decide.

“Top.”

“Then we’re fucking, or whatever else you want me to do as long as I’m out by the end of it,” Klauen growled in a low tone that sent heat to Runde’s pants.

“What do you need?” Runde asked, tugging off his own shirt with a speed that was blinding. “Power play? Pain?”

“I don’t care,” Klauen gasped against his lips. “Anything. Everything. I don’t care.”

“Well I need to play,” Runde muttered back, and turned them so Klauen’s back was to the bed. He pushed him down a little more roughly than necessary, knees to either side of the highlord’s hips. “Put your hands above you,” he ordered firmly, and Klauen obeyed without hesitation, crossing them above his head. “If you move them, I’ll make you wait.”

He moved down, planting kisses and little nibbles to Klauen’s throat, speckling his shoulders and collarbone with his saliva. Klauen shifted beneath him with a broken moan, and when Runde glanced up, his knuckles were white where his fingers interlinked.

“You’re going to have to be harsher than tha-ah!”

Runde had a nipple between his teeth, tugging gently as he sunk nails into the other’s hips, tearing gently against the skin. Klauen’s head listed backwards against the sheets, a gasp tearing from his lips as Runde licked over the nub, moving to the other. Klauen’s hips jerked with the sensations, and he gave a garbled cry, his body fighting to hold still.

“I’m gonna need something to hold onto,” he managed between stiff jaws, the effort obvious. Runde glanced up at him, assessing whether he could get away with it. Klauen’s words rang through his ears: _Nails, scars, whatever. Just make me feel it._

He rose to his knees, taking a fierce handful of Klauen’s hair. “Get up,” he ordered, and Klauen’s hands sprang apart. He hissed when Runde started applying pressure, one hand coming up to wrap around his wrist as he pushed back, moving up the bed.

“Shit,” he snarled when Runde let go, and the other paused over him, surprised. Klauen didn’t swear. Ever. Hearing profanities leave his lips was shocking. Klauen’s eyes pried open, noticing his dumbfounded expression, and a humorous smirk came to his panting lips. “Yeah, you’ll know you’re doing well when I start saying ‘fuck’.”

Runde was filled with a sudden need to hear him say it, but stalled himself. “Wrap your hands around the headboard,” he instructed, placing hands on either side of Klauen’s hips with a painful pressure. The highlord gasped and arched up into his grip, biting his lower lip. Something about the motion made Runde feel like he was getting away with more than he should.

Runde palmed his erection, a jolt lighting him up from head to toe when Klauen cried out in his hand. He sank teeth into the highlord’s shoulder, feeling and hearing him wither beneath him.

“Keep your mouth shut,” he breathed against the flesh, lapping at it with a single lick of his artful tongue. Blair had never ceased to be amazed by that tongue. “Not a single sound, understand me?”

He liked it loud, loved hearing the screams that rolled off lips like they were benedictions, desperate and devoted. But he could tell that he wasn’t going to get that from Klauen with just touches. Denying him the release would make it louder when he found himself unable to quell it.

With this knowledge, he dragged his gaze up to meet Klauen’s, watching him deliberately close his lips. It sent a thrill up Runde’s spine, and he was suddenly eager to see how far he could push the man before he snapped.

He seized the highborn’s thighs, jerking his legs up and twisting just slightly, just enough to have him hiss a grunt of pain through clenched teeth, before he schooled himself. His ankles came together between Runde’s shoulder blades, linking tightly as the soldier rested his shoulders into the curves of his calves, tucked against his knees.

Runde gasped a breathy laugh, a very potent shudder arcing through him at how helpless the highborn was, spread before him as he was. He laced a slow and torturous tongue up the highborn’s shaft, watching the man’s throat convulse as it swallowed his screams. His hand snapped down to fist in Runde’s hair, tugging fiercely, desperately motivating. The other went to his own mouth, smothering the moans that rose to his lips.

When his member was glistening with saliva, Runde delved deeper, prodding attentively at the tight circle of muscle below. Klauen jolted beneath him, his heels digging painfully into Runde’s back as his thighs pressed into the man’s temples.

Runde rocked back onto his heels, prying the highborn’s legs apart harshly and dropping them to the bed as his eyes came open, confused. Klauen made a sharp mewling sound, but it subsided as Runde slid across his torso, his open palm finding Klauen’s throat.

His hand wrapped around the soldier’s wrist instinctively, and Runde allowed him the transgression, his other hand rising to Klauen’s mouth. There, he pried apart the highborn’s plush lips with his thumb, and Klauen caught on swiftly, opening his mouth wide, his gaze meeting Runde’s as he awaited his next order.

The sight of him with his mouth held open just for him, begging for him to slide something into its warm depths had Runde’s member aching. He pressed his index finger against the roof of Klauen’s mouth, sighing contentedly when the highborn’s lips closed around the digit, his tongue sliding artfully along it. He gradually slid in two more fingers, until a dribble of spit was crawling down Klauen’s chin, and his eyes were watering with the pressure of having Runde’s fingers in his throat.

Runde plucked his fingers out, sliding them down under Klauen’s balls, and watching the man jolt and whimper at the cold sensation. Then he pressed a digit inside, watching Klauen’s knuckles turn white on the headboard. He squeezed his throat, reminding him to relax, and the highborn released him, allowing him deeper access.

He moved slowly, making sure every centimetre of movement was translated through Klauen’s trembling body, punctuating each flinch with a tightening of the hand around his throat. Inches were swallowed until the knuckle of his index finger was digging beneath the highlord’s windpipe, threatening to dislodge as the man swallowed thickly and wetly, his mouth coming apart. The wayward trail of saliva parted with his chin, forming a sticky drop on his chest that was quickly becoming a pool.

Runde had three fingers inside him now, straight and punctual as he watch Klauen rock his hips up to meet him, begging him to end his torment and touch him right _there_ … He obliged, beckoning sharply, and Klauen screamed.

Runde’s grip constricted, and the man’s scream became a choke, gagging around the feeling of his knuckles against Klauen’s tendons. His eyes sprung open, glazed over with some forlorn pleasure as he slowly refocused.

“Mouth shut,” Runde remind him darkly, positively thrumming.

Klauen fucking _whimpered_ , his gaze pleading as he swallowed harshly against Runde’s hold, and the soldier gasped hotly, a grin twisting the corner of his mouth. He wanted to see just how much the highlord could withstand.

His leg swung around, hooking over Klauen’s torso, somewhat awkwardly, but he corrected his posture, leaning back to keep his fingers inside that tight circle of heat. He beckoned again, rubbing gently against that ball of muscle, and Klauen came very close to screeching, the sound trapped behind clenched teeth.

The hand on his throat jumped to his hair, tilting his head back until Klauen opened his eyes and got the picture. A sharp look of distaste crossed his face, and he shook his head the most minute of inches.

Runde paused, only for a split second, to consider his options. Did he want Runde to stop? Had he gone too far? Or was this a spike of defiance to force his hand?

 _Make me feel it,_ his words slithered through Runde’s head, and the soldier’s gaze darkened, a cloud coming over his eyes. He released Klauen’s hair, watching the other consider his expression briefly.

Then Runde’s fist connected directly with Klauen’s nose, a sharp jab that hadn’t cut through, just hard enough to cause considerable pain, but not harsh enough to dislodge the cartilage.

To his credit, the highborn didn’t scream. A deep groan rumbled in his throat, his teeth baring as his head rapped once on the headboard and rested there until the highlord’s eyes came open. A single stream of blood slithered from his left nostril, arching down to his curled lips as Runde considered him.

He hit him again, his fist connecting with his cheekbone this time, glancing lightly off his eye socket. Klauen’s neck twisted with the momentum, and when his breathing had calmed enough to turn back to Runde, the blood was smeared across his lower face. It would probably bruise, Runde mused temporarily, but a black eye was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, Klauen was prying his bloodstained lips apart, his wretched tongue slithering out to dip into the copper liquid coating his maw.

Runde jerked forward, not waiting for Klauen to open his mouth wholly, though he was sure the highlord would have gotten there eventually. His tip hit the back of his throat, and Klauen gagged against the obtrusion, tears springing to his eyes. Runde beckoned at the same time, and watched those silver orbs roll back slightly at the overstimulation.

Klauen wasn’t choking any longer, and his hand parted from the headboard, coming down to wrap under and around Runde’s thigh, drawing him closer and deeper into the highlord’s throat. His eyes met the soldier’s, wincing as he began to fondle that bundle of muscle steadily, working him up to gentle thrusts as Klauen ground down on his hand.

Runde’s free hand fell back to Klauen’s throat as the highlord fought to take him deeper. He squeezed, watching Klauen convulse with the pressure and choke briefly before he reined himself back in. Runde imagined for a moment that he could feel his own member within Klauen’s throat, pressing back against his tight grip, and it took all of his strength not to come right there.

“Touch yourself,” he grunted, and Klauen’s hand sprung easily to his own member, stroking feverously as Runde pounded into him, his fingers working furiously as Klauen’s hips rocked to meet him. Thick gagging sounds rose from his throat as Runde ground against his tongue, a groan building in his throat.

They came at about the same moment, Runde torturing Klauen’s prostate as the highlord screamed and begged around Runde’s dick, swallowing harshly as the soldier emptied down the highborn’s throat. When Runde slid his member out, his hand was still moving inside the highlord, abusing his overstimulated hole as the highlord cried and yelled “Fuck” into the hollow room.

Klauen’s hand parted from his spent member, wrapping around Runde’s flicking wrist as he begged the soldier to stop, tears rolling down his bloodstained cheeks. Runde finally gave into the mewled pleas, and Klauen slumped down into the bedsheets, his heart pounding and his chest rising rapidly with the adrenalin.

Runde carefully disengaged from the mess of limbs, flopping down onto the bed beside him. Klauen’s panting was harsh in his ear, but no harsher than his own.

When their breathing had calmed to a respectable tempo, Runde turned his head to glance at Klauen. The highlord looked like he was chasing stars from the edges of his vision, and Runde’s fingers trickled across his cheekbone, feeling the highborn flinch at the touch.

“That’s going to bruise,” Runde mumbled, confirming his earlier concern. His fingers slid down to his bloodstained lips, before he pulled them away, letting the arm drop heavily to the bed. “Are you staying here?”

Klauen didn’t respond, but he didn’t get up either, and Runde considered that a good enough answer. He reached blindly for the sheets, lifting them over both of the men. They were in no shape to clean up now, and he didn’t plan on freezing in the night.


End file.
